


Savior

by SandriaC (SandrC)



Series: Balance My Deeds With My Misdeeds [5]
Category: The Adventure Zone (Podcast)
Genre: Only partially serious, Other, PWP, Tentacle Sex, dubcon, dubcon lite, i have a reason for this, ish???, this is my kink
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-29
Updated: 2016-10-29
Packaged: 2018-08-27 16:06:35
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,325
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8408008
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SandrC/pseuds/SandriaC
Summary: He had asked Pan for only one thing and his god had delivered.





	

**Author's Note:**

> I kinda am only partially sorta mostly serious about this.
> 
> (Iliketentaclesokay?!!!)
> 
> Um...welcome to my first TAZ porn. Idk if I'll write anymore. Sorry Clint.

Merle would not admit to some of the things he had done in between the time he had left Hekuba and when he joined the Boys on their Craig's List adventure in Phandalin. Some of it was out of shame (many, many experiments with drugs that he swore off the instant he was sober); some of it was out of respect (not really his story to tell, dammit, so back off!); but some of it was just nobodies business but his.

This was one of those latter types.

He remembers the moment with startling clarity and finds it easy to draw on that memory to make his 'me time' more special.

It had, as many things do, started with a prayer.

* * *

 

Merle Highchurch was a deeply religious man in the same way that an alcoholic was really into proper hydration—it was congruent with his habits in some places, but mostly unrelated. Still, when he was fucking stoned off his ass and feeling really shitty about Hekuba, he needed a little divine intervention.

(Perhaps, he thought in a brief moment of clarity, mixing an aphrodisiac pollen with a particularly dank strain of druidian weed was not a Good Idea(TM) and he should not do that again.)

As he struggled getting his raiments off so he could pound it until his hand fell asleep or the Pandamned ganja wore off, he swore loudly. "Pan fuck me!"

(As many people will tell you: a comma is the difference between helping your uncle, Jack, off a horse and helping your uncle jack off a horse.)

As he managed to get his damn top off, he heard a rustling sound and stopped abruptly. His eyes darted back and forth and he slowly reached for his small handaxe in his pack. (He missed, of course, but effort counts for something.) Before he could make another move, a long, green tendril whipped out of the underbrush and wrapped itself around his legs.

To his credit, he didn't scream. It may have been the fact that he was blitzed out of his mind or it may have been the fact that he was just really fucking done with giving a shit. Either way, he just gaped as the tendril around his leg hoisted him in the air and another came forward to join the party.

The second tendril grabbed ahold of Merle's trousers and tore them away in one swift motion, exposing all of Merle Highchurch's holy tool to the free air. It was already half erect due to the pollen in his dope but the cold did make things less impressive. So did hanging upside down.

(On top of eating shitty food and getting kicked out of the local inn so he had to camp in the fucking woods; this day royally fucking sucked.)

The first tendril readjusted its grip so that it was only holding one leg and the second grabbed Merle round the middle and righted him. Merle grunted at the touch against his bare skin and, much to his chagrin, found himself responsive to the tendril's soft caresses. Even if they were unintentional.

(Nope, nope! The second tendril was playing with his nipple! This was totally intentional! Nevermind!)

A third and fourth tendril came out of the green, one wrapping around his other leg and holding him steadier, while the other slowly probed around, as if it were searching for something. When it came to his testicles, it curled around them and gently tugged downward, causing Merle to gasp slightly.

(Oh wow. That's new. That is a new thing to do with those! File that info away for later! Boy howdy!)

Noticing his response and the way his cock twitched in response, the tendril tugged again, a slow and languid motion that caused all of Merle's body hair stand on edge. The tendril around his torso continued to lightly tease his nipple (just the one. The left one) as the other continued to gently stimulate his balls.

It was a rhythm of sorts that Merle could appreciate. His body was responsive and tender and oh Pan that felt amazing!!! Never mind that it was possibly a monster or perhaps a plant thing doing this to him. Never mind that he was possibly not sober enough to properly consent. Never mind that this was technically immoral in the eyes of the general populace. It felt fucking good.

(He may have asked it to continue, to push farther. He doesn't remember exactly what he said but it may have been that. He said something though.)

Another tendril wriggled from the depths of the forest and sneakily wormed its way up to his cock. It curled loosely around his slowly hardening length as the others stroked his balls and tweaked his nipple. Then, at peak boner, it tightened.

(Ecstasy! A flash of bright color and sensations and oh Pan, oh fuck this was more than he had ever felt before was it supposed to feel this good? Had sex ever felt this good before?!!)

He bucked into its curls, trying to rut against the tightening—but never choking—wrapping around his dick. The one on his nipple pulled and teased as the one on his sack stopped its playing and moved a little more...ass-ward. He didn't care though; it felt amazing and he just needed to come so badly! As he bucked against the hold of the tendrils he felt the one that at once point had been playing with his balls probe his anus and slowly slip in. It was uncomfortable at first, but whatever it was that was fucking him so nicely was very careful because it never hurt and it was nice and slow. The slow and steady tapering of the tendril allowed it to slip a good length of itself into his ass before it became Too Much(TM). Then it began to move around, searching for the position that made Merle feel best.

(It found it and Merle saw stars and galaxies and the whole order of the universe and the planes of existence laid before him like a map for him to read. You are here, said the map as it pointed to everything. You are this, the map said. His toes curled and he groaned and slammed his hips into the tendril that had him by the cock.)

It wouldn't let him come. It wasn't malicious or anyshit like that; it just wanted him to last. As he slammed himself against the one holding his cock, the one in his ass pistoned in and out, dragging itself against that spot again and again and again and ohhhhhhh Pan, this was the best damn thing in his life!

He cried out to the god whom he barely believed in and begged to come. He asked the creature that held him and was pleasuring him to let him feel release. He moaned and made noises that shouldn't come out of a clergyman's mouth. And just as his vision was starting to crinkle at the edges—moreso than when the first drag hit and the world made sense—it relented. He came and cried and it was the closest damn thing to a truly religious experience he had ever had. Then the tendrils set him down gently, unfurled and tenderly drew away from him. He felt almost, sad to see them go, but relief overshadowed any other emotion and he dragged himself to his bedroll and fell asleep.

(In the morning, when he woke up with a crust in his pubes and a hangover of epic proportions, he vaguely remembered the encounter and smiled wistfully. Fucking weird or not, there certainly were worse lays.)

Years later, when he was trying to get into Goldcliff Trust, he remembered the way those vines—cause he knew for sure they were vines now—had loved him and he smiled gently. Now was his turn to return the favor.


End file.
